


Secret Sankta

by snarkwhal



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Post-Canon, grisha trilogy headcanon, grishaverse headcanon, i needed this ok, still a bit bitter from the epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-14 14:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkwhal/pseuds/snarkwhal
Summary: Alina truly loved spending the winter holidays with her friends, she really did, but some small part of her felt like something was still missing. If she was going to be honest, it was more like she missedsomeone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here, have this super self-indulgent Christmasish fic that I wrote because I'm still sort of bitter about the R&R epilogue. And yeah I know Christmas doesn't technically exist in the grishaverse, but just humour me for this, okay?

“Ho ho ho! King Nikolai has arrived bearing gifts for all the good grisha girls and boys!” The afformentioned tsar sang as he entered the Little Palace. 

“I don’t _see_ you bearing any gifts,” snapped Zoya, “so close the doors before it starts snowing in here!” 

“My presence is a gift.” Zoya groaned, exasperated by his response. It was times like this that were Alina’s favourite part of being back in Os Alta. 

She, the triumvirate, and a few other grisha had been decorating the domed hall till Nikolai had barged in. Most of the younger students had gone to visit their hometowns and families for the holidays, and older members of the army were already stationed around Ravka, so hardly anyone was left at the Little Palace. So in spite of that, or because of it, Genya had suggested fixing up the place. She had claimed that the extra amount of festivity would be fun, and she wasn’t wrong there. The whole attempt at decorating, which had been going on for hours at this point, made Alina feel like she was part of a big, and somewhat dysfunctional, family. 

Thanks to a nearly day long struggle, the domed hall was now glittering with the help of decorations strewn about its walls, arches, and a huge pine tree by the main entrance. David and Genya had created strings of lights that could activate with the help of a sun summoner, but to the misfortune of Alina and the others, they were fond of getting tangled and not so fond of staying up. Picking the tree was another story, as it had taken the group nearly 3 hours, and a few fights, to decide on the perfect one. The squallers' abilities and Tolya’s height had made decorating said tree fairly fast, though Adrik had broken a few ornaments in the process of trying to impress Zoya. But other than a few burnt out bulbs and some colourful shattered glass, it was possible that the Little Palace now looked more stunning than the first time Alina had seen it. 

Though the whole room glowed and Alina loved setting it up, part of her still felt a bit empty and a bit cold as she looked around. Nikolai was talking animatedly to the triumvirate about something to do with making his flying ships more winter-friendly. Adrik and a few corporalnik were huddled together playing cards at a dining table, pretending to listen intently to Tolya’s poetry. Tamar and Nadia were curled up by a tiled oven, buried in a pile of pillows and blankets, the latter resting her head on the former's shoulder. Two sun summoners and a few fabricators were even playing with the broken lights. As happy as she was, Alina couldn’t deny that she felt like something was still missing. 

It was now 4 years after the end of the civil war, and a little over half a year since she and Mal had divorced. Seperating was messy at first, but after a brutal back and forth, they finally agreed that the marriage was rushed and a result of them missing their childhood. From time to time Alina did visit Keramzin, checking in on him and the orphanage, but her role was back in Os Alta. Now she spent her days tutoring her sun summoners in everything from the art of invisibility to the precision of the cut. All of this she did while the rest of the country, and the world, remained unaware of the fact that their Sankta was alive, and unable to call even the tiniest pinprick of light. 

Occasionally, Alina thought back to her early days as a grisha, but her mind always drifted to one person in particulare. Wherever she looked, whether it was by the lake or in the war room, she saw him, though she knew it was merely her memories. If he was somehow alive, she was sure that her abilities and their connection would’ve returned as well. Although, there were moments where she thought she made the shadows jump, and there were cloudy days she felt the sun dance on her skin. Either way, Alina often felt like the Darkling had never truly left her. 

Without noticing, her fingers began tapping the spot where the antlers had been as she thought of Aleksander. The first time she spent the holidays in Os Alta, he had been somewhere else in the country with another part of the 2nd army. If he had been at the palace, would he have spent the time with her? Would he have sat alone with her and given her a gift as part of the act or because he was lonely? It was pointless to think of, since he wasn’t sentimental after living so long, but the thought still bothered her. Alina told herself she didn’t care, told herself that she didn’t need an answer, but something in the back of her mind said she did. 

“Hey, now’s not the time to mope about Mal. I’m sure he’s alright,” a voice said from behind her, “or were you thinking about how much you want to marry a certain king of Ravka?” 

“On the contrary, _moi tsar_ , I was listing the presents I wanted you to get me,” Alina forced a laugh as she turned to where Nikolai stood. 

“Sorry if I missed something, but you should’ve written me a letter like everyone else. You know how many deliveries I need to make in one night… You alright though?” 

“I’m fine, just a bit tired is all.” He didn’t entirely believe her, but Nikolai didn’t press Alina for any details. 

The rest of the night was spent lounging around, the girl enjoying the comforting, and for once kind of quiet, company of her friends. She gorged herself on an endless amount of pastries, and drank tea with Genya the way they did when they first met. After, she shared some kvas with everyone as they debated the pros and cons of a drunk Zoya, much to the squaller’s dismay. At one point Alina sat on the floor to watch Oncat paw at a sleigh bell, only for him to lose interest and start chasing a beam that someone had conjured up. The little games, the food, and the conversations were all welcome distractions from her earlier thoughts, keeping her from dwelling on the past. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Ah! So you’ve decided to show up with presents this time,” Zoya said as Nikolai entered the domed hall, said gifts in hand and a group of servants following him with more.

“It’s good to be fashionably late sometimes. Makes my arrival that much more interesting.”

Genya rolled her one amber eye, “Well, aren’t we lucky you didn’t make us wait any longer?

“I have some work to get back to, so are we going to start opening these or-“ David tried to finish, but was quickly cut off by his wife pulling him over to a pile of boxes that a few people were already sifting through.

Finishing her last piece of rye and her glass of tea, Alina stood and joined her friends by the pile. From the shear amount, she guessed that she could build a small house with all the gifts. Some were as small as her hand, and some were as big as her torso. Some were midnight blue, others deep plum, crimson, bright yellow, pale pink, teal, or forest green. All of them were topped off with bows, a few more intricate than the rest, and all had either a small folded note or label attached. In elegant scrawl, or the usual chicken scratch, little greetings were written from one to another, making the small mountain, or at least trying to make it, easier to sort through.

Gathered on the floor or on cushions, the group exchanged gifts as they ate roasted nuts, hot house fruits, and little peppermint candies. Some people, like David, meticulously unwrapped each box, careful not to ruin the decorative paper or possibly damage anything inside. Others, like Adrik, were far too excited for that. Inside were things like special inks and fountain pens, small pieces of jewelry, new books, and new things to play or tinker with. Nikolai had gotten miniature versions of his fleet of flying ships, and Oncat was already curled up in his new feather filled bed. Each newly unwrapped present added to a new pile of empty boxes and shredded paper, and an overwhelmingly happy room.

“There’s one more over here,” Nadia said as she examined a package, “I think it’s for Alina.”

“Who’s it from?” Alina asked, one of her brows quirking up in surprise and disbelief.

“It doesn’t say.”

As Nadia handed it to her, Alina took a closer look and furrowed her brows in confusion. It was small enough that she could hold it with one hand, was wrapped in brown butcher’s paper, and was tied together by a simple white string. Hanging from the string was a tiny slip of paper that read “To: A.S”. Since no one else currently at the Little Palace had those initials, there was no doubt that it was meant for her.

“Looks like you might have a secret admirer,” Tamar chuckled with the others.

Deciding not to wait any longer, Alina opened the package with more caution than she had earlier. Inside was a black leather bound book, its title written in gold lettering across the cover.

“It’s the _Istorii Sankt’ya_ …” she said, turning it to her waiting friends, their laughter dying down slightly.

Who would give her something like this? Was it meant to be a joke? It wasn’t impossible for her friends to pull a prank, just highly unlikely, especially when it was something like giving her _The Lives of Saints_. It was far beyond them, and the same went for her sun summoners and Mal, too. Maybe the apparat then? But thanks to threats from the triumvirate and king, he had left her alone since she had returned. Besides, if it was him, why keepp the sender a secret when the gift itself was so blatant?

Still clueless as to who could have given her the book, she flipped through the pages irritably. Nothing in the front. Nothing in the back either. Then, just as Alina was about to throw it in frustration, she landed on one of the illustrations, her breath hitching as she studied it.

Shown on the page was an all too familiar sight, two bodies laying together as flames consumed them. Drawn on the left, in her blue and gold kefta with a halo illuminating her white hair, was Sankta Alina. Highlighted on her wrist and neck were her two amplifiers, the collar and fetter, just as she had remembered them. Then next to her, surrounded by shadow and in his black and gold kefta, was the Darkling. Except this face was flawless, still unmarked by the Volcra’s talons. Both of the bodies, both of the frauds, were depicted the exact way that she, and the rest of Ravka, had seen them that day.

Before she shut the book, she noticed that there was a note on the back of the illustration. In slightly smudged ink, and handwriting she hardly recognized, it read:

It’s good to see that the Sankta is alive and well. And that she’s chosen not to keep house for her tracker anymore. Pity she didn’t decide that sooner. - A 

“There’s nothing in here,” Alina lied and closed the book, looking back up at everyone, “It doesn’t say who sent it or where they sent it from. I have no idea why I got this.”

Still a bit weary, the others nodded and decided not to ask anymore questions or think about it. They moved on a minute later, returning to their own gifts or thanking each other for them. Some Etherealki left to try their’s out in the snow, and majority of the Materialki returned to their workshop. Anyone left in the domed hall was either eating, talking, playing with something, or reading. Tolya, for one, was already reciting lines from his new book of epic poetry. The mood in the room quickly returned to normal.

***

As Alina strolled by the stone pavilions and the lake, she stared at the dancing snowflakes around her. She thought back to the night when she and the Darkling had walked down this same path, the night he had kissed her for the first time. She thought about the way his eyes looked at her from that moment and from then on, the currently grey sky reminding her about him and how she felt. The way he spoke, the way he laughed. The last time she had seen him alive, how he had struggle to reach out to her and breathe her name. Every little thing flooded back and crashed into her at full force.

Alina felt no anger about the current situation, not even in the slightest, but she wasn’t exactly ecstatic either. She was, however, completely and utterly frustrated. A man, who she had long believed to be dead, was now sending her notes in ironic packages. If it wasn’t someone’s elaborate joke, or he wasn’t somehow doing this from beyond the grave, then Alina didn’t know how to feel about it. For a long time she had debated whether or not she missed Aleksander, wondered what it would be like to see him again, but now that there was a possibility that he was alive, she was just annoyed with herself.

At least she was alone at the moment. Off in the distance she could barely hear a group skating and another getting ready to leave for a sleigh ride, but they were too far to distract her or hear her muttering. For now, Alina tried concentrating on the crunch of snow beneath her boots and avoiding slipping. She breathed in and out slowly, taking in the cold fresh air to calm herself and clear her mind. She briefly closed her eyes, feeling the wind blow at her hair and making her tug her kefta around her a little tighter.

“You still look like a mouse,” a voice, as smooth and as cold as ice, said from the trees behind her.

Opening her eyes and whipping around to the sound, Alina searched for its source. To her amazement, her eyes landed on a familiar figure. It was messier because of the wind, but he still had the same black hair. The same quartz grey eyes were staring back at her. The same angular face, his cheeks and jaw marked by scars, was still as beautiful as it had been 4 years ago. His mouth was even turned up at a corner, as if he were suppressing a smile.

“I-I thought I put a knife through your heart,” Alina managed.

“That you did, and in more ways than one.”

The two fell silent for a long moment, simply staring at each other, until Alina choked out something between a sob and a laugh, “I thought I’d never see you again… For once, I’m a bit glad that I was wrong.”

Aleksander grinned slightly, “I’m glad you were wrong, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that might not be the most realistic thing that could happen post R&R, but I just really needed to write it. It was giving me a lot of feels and I hope it gave you some, too.


End file.
